Guilt assaulted Lucy as a man passed, patting Marlin on the back.
“Good job,” he murmured.
She noticed him look down the alley she’d disappeared into, maybe hoping to catch her. The idea made her feel tense and she squeezed Marlin’s arm without meaning to.
He glanced at her, kissing her forehead. “I’m okay, sis.”
“I know. I just want you to be careful.” She fiddled with the lapel of his collar, spotting an opening and taking it. “Your treatment starts again on Monday and you know you have to be healthy otherwise they’ll delay it.”
“Treatment?” The lady frowned.
Lucy waved her hand, trying to act as though it didn’t bother her, but her eyes sprouted with tears. “Chemo…again. We’ve enjoyed a healthy remission, but it’s back.”
“Helen, it’s going to be okay.” Marlin squeezed her hand.
Lucy wiped at a few tears that had started to fall. “Sorry,” she whispered, looking at the lady. “Mom passed away a few years ago from the same thing and it just gets me now and again.”
“Oh, my dear.” The lady squeezed her arm.
“We just came out for a final afternoon of fun before we go back to the sickness and the…” Lucy waved her hand and swallowed, sniffing a couple of times for good measure.
“Well, here let me help you enjoy it.” She opened up her purse, pulling her wallet free.
“Oh no, please ma’am, you don’t have to do that.” Marlin shook his head.
“I know I don’t,” she snapped. “But I want to.” She finished with a gorgeous smile.
Grabbing Marlin’s hand, she slapped some money into it and patted his arm. “You two take care of each other.”
Lucy let the tears keep flowing, feigning speechlessness as she touched her chest. “Thank you,” she mouthed. She swiped a few tears away. “That is so kind.”
“Hey now, your brother helped me today. I owe him a lot more than that.”
She opened her arms wide and Lucy fell into the hug. The woman’s arms were warm and motherly, squeezing Lucy tight before gently rubbing her back. It felt so good to be held that way again, it reminded her of home, which Lucy hadn’t thought of in a while.
Blinking at her tears, she pulled herself free and shut off thoughts of her mother before she turned into a genuine blubbering mess.
Food. A bed.
She said the words inside her head, killing off any emotion. Swallowing, she gifted the lady one last smile as she walked away, calling out yet another thank you.
Marlin wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her across the street, keeping up their brother/sister persona until they were around the corner.
Peaking over his shoulder, he saw they were in the clear and tugged Lucy into the alley.
“How much?” She dabbed at her blotchy cheeks, forcing her shaking innards to be still. She couldn’t believe they’d actually pulled it off. Lucy leaned towards Marlin as he finished counting.
“Four hundred bucks!” He whooped. “I told you she was loaded.” He slapped Lucy on the arm with an elated grin.
She tried to match his enthusiasm, but couldn’t quite manage it.
“So what do you want to do first? Eat? Sleep? Shop? What?”
“I don’t—”
Her reply was cut short by the slow clapping of hands. Marlin’s pale eyes jumped with fright before he pulled Lucy behind him and backed up the alley further.
“Bravo.” The black man smiled, his white teeth shining. “Excellent performance.” His British accent sounded posh, but a practiced posh.
Lucy frowned, eyeing him over Marlin’s shoulder.
“Who are you?” Marlin’s voice had a hard edge to it.
“The name’s Shorty.” The man bowed, the posh accent slipping to reveal a street British that seemed to suit him better. He wasn’t a large man, but his personality made up for it. His long skinny legs matched his knuckley fingers. His wide nose and full lips almost made him look like a caricature, but he had a class about him…a flair. His thick gold ring caught her eye as he pointed at them. “What I just saw you kids do, was stella’. Absolutely stella’. How long you been conning then?”
“We…” Lucy looked to Marlin. “We don’t con.”
“Sweetheart, I just saw you do it.”
“No, we…that wasn’t.” Lucy shook her head then sighed. Shorty’s dark eyes were staring her down, turning her lies to ash.
“What do you want?” Marlin stood tall. The guy might be skinny, but he had good height.
Shorty wasn’t intimidated in the slightest as he sauntered towards him. “I, my little friends, want you.”
He pointed at them.
“Us?”
“You pulled off that con without even breaking a sweat. You, Princess Helen, or whatever your name is, was brilliant. I could use some talent like yours.”
“Who are you?” Marlin repeated the question, but his voice was softening.
“I am a con-artist. Moved here a few years back. Been working the area. Lot of money to be made in these parts, but only so much when you don’t have a team. Come work for me.”